On The Run
by Allanna Stone
Summary: When Bonnie Winter's parents are killed, she is sent to live with her godfather, Mycroft Holmes. On her first day in London she meets Sherlock and John. What kind of chaos ensues? RATED T FOR VIOLENCE AND SWEARING
1. Chapter 1

**On the Run**

**I do not own BBC Sherlock.**

**SUMMARY:**

**When Bonnie Winter's parents are killed, she is sent to live with her godfather, Mycroft Holmes. On her first day in London she meets Sherlock and John. What kind of chaos ensues?**

It was 3:57 am when Mycroft got the phone call.

He was sound asleep in bed (for once). The ringing of his cell phone jolted him awake.

"Mycroft," he mumbled sleepily into the insterments, swinging his legs out of bed and heading out into the front room so that he didn't wake up Athena.

"Mr. Holmes?" the voice was unfamiliar to him. "Hello, my name is Lucy Smith, I'm with New York City Child Services and I'm calling on behalf of Charles and Lia Winter."

Mycroft smiled as he recalled his only friend from London University. Charles was a charming young man from a wealthy family who enjoyed sports and charity work.

"I'm sorry to have to break this to you Mr. Holmes, but Charles and Lia were killed in a bank robbery shoot-up earlier this morning," continued Mrs. Smith.

Mycroft sank into a nearby chair, shocked at what he was hearing. Charles couldn't be dead- he was so full of life and always looked forward to what tomorrow would bring.

"The reason why I'm calling, Mr. Holmes, is because of their daughter, Bonnie." Mrs. Smith paused for a second and he could hear papers being rustled as she looked for something. "It states in their last will and testament that if anything were to happen to them, then their daughter, Bonnie Elizabeth Winter, is to be placed under the care of her godfather, Mycroft Scott Holmes until she comes of legal age." A minute passed by in silence. "Mr. Holmes, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here." Mycroft was surprised at his voice cracking.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but would you like to fly to New York and pick up Bonnie, or are you comfortable with having her fly out to London on her own?"

Athena stepped out of the bedroom at that moment, tying a knot into the sash of her dressing gown and yawning quietly.

"Could you excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Smith?" Mycroft asked in a grief stricken voice before covering the receiver with a hand.

He quickly filled in Athena on what was going on and the pretty blonde gasped.

"Should I start getting the guest bedroom ready for her?" she asked worriedly.

Mycroft sighed with relief as his girlfriend bustled off to decluttered the mentioned room before turning back to Mrs. Smith.

"Please, can you tell me anything about Bonnie?" he begged after setting the phone onto speaker so that Bonnie could get a clear idea of what to buy for her boyfriend's goddaughter.

Mrs. Smith huffed as papers being shuffled was heard once more. "Her case worker says that… oh, here we are.. Her case worker says that Bonnie is a 'spirited young sixteen year old with enough talents to make anyone else's brain explode… she enjoys music and plays the violin, guitar, piano and sings… her favorite colors are blue and black… her favorite sports are gymnastic, parkour and horseback riding… her favorite food is fruit and chocolate… enjoys winter, school, reading and writing…" The shuffling stopped. "And that's where the case worker's penmanship goes all over the place…"

Mycroft saw Athena bit back a chuckle as she stared at the blank wall across from the bed. she nodded at him to let him know that she had a plan for decorating.

After chatting for a few minutes more, Mycroft bid the woman good night and turned to face his girlfriend, who had her laptop out and was looking for paint colors.


	2. Chapter 2

**On the Run**

**I do not own BBC Sherlock.**

**SUMMARY:**

**When Bonnie Winter's parents are killed, she is sent to live with her godfather, Mycroft Holmes. On her first day in London she meets Sherlock and John. What kind of chaos ensues?**

**TWO NOTES FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**There's a poll up on my page. Pleasy sneezy go and vote?**

**I know that everyone is very much OOC in the FanFic.**

Mycroft examined his goddaughter's bedroom with a critical eye. Athena had "stalked" Bonnie's Facebook page and found furniture that she knew the young girl would love.

The walls were painted in a creamy blue, with blank spaces for Bonnie to put up artwork or posters that suited her fancy. There was a vintage desk under the window, two bookcases that were empty, and an iron daybed against the wall opposite of the window.

He nodded after glancing down at his watch- his girlfriend knew how to decorate.

"Athena, I'm off to pick up Bonnie!" he called as he grabbed his coat and put it on before his cell phone went off. He glanced at the caller ID and groaned.

"I'm busy," he grunted into the receiver after taking the call. "Don't you raise your eyebrows at me!"

"We need you to come in- it's a matter of national security!"

After arguing for a few more minutes, Mycroft hung up, grumbling under his breath before making another phone call.

~xoXox~

Bonnie was jolted from her light slumber by the flight attendant shaking her shoulder and telling her that the plane was going to land in ten minutes.

"Tray up, seat belt on, okay sweetheart?" he said with a smile as Bonnie nodded with a scowl on her pretty face, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she forcefully slammed the tray back up.

She glared out the window and all she could see was the color grey.

"Makes me want to reconsider me wardrobe choice," she muttered sarcastically, snapping the shade down before buckling herself in.

After landing, she grabbed her backpack, guitar case and duffle from the compartment above her and disembarked the plane, her eyes peeled for someone to approach her and the heavy scowl still on her face.

When no one stood out to her, she sighed heavily and slumped down on a bench to shuffle through her iPod for some music. The song that came on was Within Temptation's _Lost._

"_**My hope is on fire  
My dreams are for sale  
I dance on a wire  
I don't want to fail her  
I walk against the stream  
Far from what I believe in  
I run towards, towards the end  
Trying not to give in  
She's lost in the darkness  
Fading away  
I'm still around here  
Screaming her name  
She's haunting my dream world  
Trying to survive  
My heart is frozen  
I'm losing my mind  
Help me, I'm buried alive  
Buried alive…"  
**_

Bonnie was jerked from her world of music when someone sat down next to her. She glanced over and saw that it was a tall, slender man with dark curly hair and dark blue eyes.

"Hello," she greeted him with a gruff voice.

"Hello, Bonnie," he answered.

"How did you know who I am?" she asked with suspicion in her voice.

"You're the only adolescent in the vicinity of this airport, so unless Mycroft sent me off on a wild goose chase, you're Bonnie Elizabeth Snow," he answered wryly.

"You're not Uncle Mycroft? Then who are you?" Bonnie asked with a scoff, folding her arms across her chest as she slouched into the uncomfortably hard plastic seat.

"I see that my brother had neglected to inform you that he was suddenly called into work, leaving me, his baby brother, to pick you up and entertain you until he can come for you," the slender man rolled his eyes. Bonnie stilled looked wary of him but didn't bolt or scream for help. "I'm Sherlock, by the way." He paused for a moment. "Do you have any other suitcases with you?" he asked as they stood up. He took her duffle bag and they began to walk. Bonnie nodded before ducking her head to hide behind a curtain of curls, a nervous habit she picked up since growing her hair out years ago. They soon reached the carousal, which was happily vomiting out luggage, and Bonnie quickly pointed out hers, which were hot pink and teal blue respectively. After getting them and showing Sherlock how they fit on top of one another making it easy to transport, the two walked towards the exit in comfortable silence.

"Hold on, I'm going to text John and tell him not to bother with finding a parking spot anymore," Sherlock told Bonnie before whipping out his cell phone and texting frantically. Bonnie looked at his cell phone and sighed grumpily. She donated the cell phone she used in New York along with all her other electronic gizmos because she knew that the plug sockets would be different.

"Drat, it's raining again," muttered Sherlock, as they came to the entrance to the airport. Bonnie looked out and smiled for the first time since receiving the news that her parents were dead.

"I like the rain," she informed Sherlock with a small smile. "I love feeling the rain on my skin- it lets me know that I'm alive."

Sherlock chuckled sadly, understanding what she was saying before a green car came p to the entrance. Out stepped a man with graying blonde hair and a nice suit. He held an umbrella over his head as he rushed to help Sherlock with the suitcases.

Bonnie refused the umbrella and unloaded her backpack into the boot before spinning around in the rain.

"Bonnie!" Sherlock called out. "We're ready to go!" The sixteen year old girl ran back to the car and jumped in all in one fluid motion, pulling her wool jacket in tightly around her to ward off the chill. The blonde man introduced himself as being John Watson before closing the door to the car and getting in the front to drive.

"What's your connection to Sherlock, John?" Bonne asked as the drab and dreary London cityscape passed by at a blur.

"We're partners," Sherlock commented, making John's ears turn red.

"Sherlock!" scolded John before glancing at Bonnie in the rear view mirror who had an elegant with a piercing in it eyebrow arched. "We're not that kind of partners- we're flat mates and partners in crime," he cracked a smile at the girl, who only raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of crime? Drug trafficking?" Bonnie asked with a hint of teasing, leaning back in her car seat.

"The opposite- I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world," Sherlock boasted.

"What he means, is that we both help out Scotland Yard with cases that have them scratching their heads," interjected John, sending his friend a look that Bonnie did not miss.

A few minutes later, Sherlock's phone went off.

"We got another case," he announced, making John groan.

"Okay Bonnie, do you want to tag along with us or hang at our flat?" he asked her.

"I think I'll come with," she answered, straightening up.

"Is there anything you want to do before we nip off?" John asked Bonnie kindly as she took her backpack from the seat next to her and pawed through it.

"Nope, I'm good, thanks," she answered, coming up with a thick binder with sheet music and other papers stuffed inside in a disorganized mess.

"You're hungry?" Sherlock suddenly piped up. Bonnie hesitated before nodding, her dark hair covering her eyes. "Come- I know of a great burger place."

"How did you know that burgers are my favorite?" Bonnie asked as the car zoomed through clogged traffic.

"Your earrings, I took a lucky guess," Sherlock smiled at the girl, who tried to return the smile only to have it come out as a scowl.


	3. Chapter 3

**On the Run**

**I do not own BBC Sherlock.**

**SUMMARY:**

**When Bonnie Winter's parents are killed, she is sent to live with her godfather, Mycroft Holmes. On her first day in London she meets Sherlock and John. What kind of chaos ensues?**

**THREE NOTES FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**There's a poll up on my page. Pleasy sneezy go and vote?**

**I know that everyone is very much OOC in the FanFic.**

**Bonnie is not a Mary Sue. Her flaws are that she can act childlike, doesn't like being around large groups of people, can be bossy as hell and can be very impulsive at time which lands her in danger. Amd oh did I mention that she can be as rude as hell?**

"Well, we're here," John informed Bonnie a few minutes later when they pulled up to a fancy manor estate with cars surrounding the lawn.

Bonnie looked around as she stepped out of the car, wrapping a blue scarf around her neck to help ward off the cold chill in the air.

"Let me guess- a murder?" she muttered as she hopped out of the car and followed John and Sherlock inside. "Yup, a murder alright."

There was a body sheet covering something that Bonnie took to be a body.

"Fanny Smith, age thirty five. She was a live in nanny for the de Vegas family. There is no sign of Rosalinda, her charge- we suspect that it must be a kidnapping gone wrong," announced a man before catching sight of Bonnie. "Excuse me, but this is an active crime scene."

"The perp entered through the front door, meaning that she knew and trusted her murderer, judging by the fact that the door hadn't been forced open, and then the scuffle started at the top of the staircase," Bonnie muttered, ignoring the man as she retraced what had happened. "And then after she was stabbed- I'm guessing she was stabbed, judging by the blood spatters, she fell down the staircase and cracked her head, killing her instantly."

"So I'm guessing that Rosalinda was taking a nap in her room. With the nanny dead, the perp didn't know which room was hers so he started opening door after door, until he got lucky," she continued walking through what had happened. "When he finds her, he grabs her and makes a bolt for it- check the doorknobs for fingerprints- he might've gotten careless."

"Right away, miss," one of the men started to dust the doorknobs and take fingerprints to be examined.

"Is Rosalinda deaf?" Bonnie suddenly asked. When her question was confirmed, she stated, "I knew it- the floorboards have vibrations in them. That must account for her not hearing any of the mayhem- were there any neighbors home?"

"We're checking in on that as we speak, miss," piped up another man.

"Check faster- during the first forty eight hours of a kidnapping, time is crucial. Every minute we waste sitting around twiddling our thumbs lowers the chances of finding her alive," she barked.

Scotland Yard looked impressed at her keen observation skills as Sherlock poked around the scene of the crime, with John writing down everything in a notepad.

"Also check all traffic cameras for anything that doesn't fit and cross reference the license plates," she added in as well before bending down to examine the body.

"Here." Bonnie was handed gloves, which she snapped on and peeled the body sheet away from the face and torso.

"Have a rape test done on her, too," she suddenly piped up. "See these marks on her neck? They're hickies. Never had one, but I hear they're a pain to cover up."

Some snorted while other waited around to be told what to do.

"Well, what are we waiting for? The Russian Ballet will be performing the _Nutcracker Ballet_ in December and it's still February for the love of Christ! Get to work!" she snapped, sending people off into a flurry of activity.

"You're good," whistled Sherlock, impressed by Bonnie's skills.

"Back in New York, I would deduce the living hell out of everyone- it made really everyone nervous, with them never being able to predict what I was going to do next" she chuckled before replacing the body sheet and peeling off her gloves. "Where are Rosalinda's parents?"

"They're off on their five year anniversary trip to Spain- we're still trying to get in touch with them," spoke up another member of Scotland Yard.

"Try harder," Bonnie snapped, standing up. "Was anything of value taken?"

"Not that we know of- we're waiting for the de Vegas to return so that they can tell us," spoke up someone nervously.

"Wait a minute…" Bonnie muttered, wandering into the formal dining room and standing in front of the china cupboard. "A teacup is missing!"


	4. Chapter 4

**On the Run**

**I do not own BBC Sherlock.**

**SUMMARY:**

**When Bonnie Winter's parents are killed, she is sent to live with her godfather, Mycroft Holmes. On her first day in London she meets Sherlock and John. What kind of chaos ensues?**

**TWO NOTES FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**There's a poll up on my page. Pleasy sneezy go and vote?**

**I know that everyone is very much OOC in the FanFic.**

"Yes, I collect tea sets," Mrs. La Vegas confirmed, wringing a tear smeared lacey scrap of fabric in between her hands. It was three hours later and she and her husband were back in London.

"Ask her about the missing teacup," Bonnie said into the ear piece she was given to communicate with the detective who was talking to Mrs. La Vegas in the interrogation room.

"A teacup was missing from your collection," the detective said, showing her a picture of the china cabinet, with the missing teacup clearly evident.

"That was the teacup that Rosalinda would drink from for our afternoon teas," she responded. "She would always have chocolate milk or apple juice instead of tea. It was a gift from one of my husband's business partners."

"Why would he give you a teacup?" asked the man, sitting across from her.

"Because it was a family heirloom. He didn't have any daughters of his own to pass it onto," she responded, hiccupping a few times.

"She's trying to be strong," muttered Bonnie as she examined Mrs. La Vegas. "Ask her about the business partner."

"Does he have a name?" asked the detective.

"Mr. Michael Mosely," she answered. "He passed away three months ago, but he doted on Rosalinda as though he were her grandfather."

"Did he have any enemies?" the detective pressed.

"As a matter of fact yes," Mrs. La Vegas answered. "There was a young man who claimed to be his illegitimate son- Mr. Mosely said it was absurd- he was faithful to his wife, even after she died in that tragic boating accident. In his last will and testament, he gave everything he owned to Rosalinda when she turns eighteen."

"Motive and suspect," smirked Bonnie before she heard a loud commotion out in the front office. She sighed and stood, wincing as her bones cracked loudly, alerting her that she had been sitting in one position for too long.

"What the fucking blazes is going on out here?" she demanded to know, storming out of the observation room to observe the chaos that was happening.

"Oh, just the same ol', same ol'," John muttered, not looking up from his laptop, where he was busy typing up something.

"That's helpful as fuck," Bonnie muttered sarcastically, walking from the little room that John was situated in and stepping into the front office. Sherlock was settled on the couch with a nicotine patch on her neck while there were a dozen people rushing around, yelling about DNA tests.

"Don't make me repeat myself," Bonnie said in a quiet voice which everyone seemed to hear. Someone handed her a file folder, which she opened and scanned.

"I don't read Latin…" she told nobody in particular.

"Sorry dear," apologized a pretty woman who introduced herself as Molly Hooper, looking over Bonnie with an interested eye.

Bonnie's petite and slender frame wore darkwash skinny jeans, a royal blue mock neck crop top, stiletto knee high boots, and a black wool trench coat. Her pink, blue and purple streaked dark brown-black corkscrew curls were kept in check by a black newsboy cap and the London chill was kept away with fingerless black leather gloves on her callused hands and a royal blue scarf around her dainty neck. Her skin was pale, with reddish-brown freckles on her cheeks and nose. But it was Bonnie's eyes that caught Molly's attention- purple with long lashes that any woman would kill for. All in all, she looked like a delicate china doll that would shatter if someone touched her.

"No, I don't wear contact," Bonnie spoke up, waving the file folder in Molly face. "Care to translate?"

"Oh, sorry…" Molly blushed before quickly explaining that the DNA found underneath Fanny Smith's fingernails indicated that it was a female with B negative blood who had attacked and killed her."

"Check with knitting and sewing clubs for females with B negative blood," Bonnie told her.

"How did you…" Molly asked in wonder as Bonnie turned to walk off.

"The calluses on her fingers," the sixteen year old girl called over her shoulders before heading off for the loo to splash some water onto her neck, which would get hot whenever she was under stress.

A few minutes later, she exited the loo with her scarf off and went over to sit with Sherlock.

"I didn't know you had tattoos," was all that he said when she sat next to him.

Bonnie cracked a smile.

"I have a grand total of five tattoos," she bragged, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt. "A red rose on the inside of my right wrist and a bracelet of pink rose on my left wrist because roses are my favorite flowers. I also have a tribal styled cluster of tiny snowflakes on my left shoulder because I was born during wintertime, on Christmas Eve as a matter of fact." She lifted her curls to show a sun and moon eclipsing on the right side of her neck. "I was also born on the eve of a rare solar eclipse, and on my right hip I have the words 'Once Upon a Time…' because I love fairy tales. Everything is very symbolic to me." She cracked a smile at him. "I'd show you the tat on my hip only it would involve me getting undressed."

Sherlock didn't even blush.

"And I get the feeling that Uncle Mycroft would skin you alive if you saw me in nothing more than my birthday suit," she commented with a hint of a smirk.

"Call me Uncle Sherlock," he said, glancing down at the sixteen year old girl.

"Are you sure?" she asked him.

"Since John's wife is expecting their first child in six months, I figure I better get used to being called 'uncle'," smiled Sherlock.

"John's married?" Bonnie asked, a bit surprised.

"Yes, to a woman by the name of Mary Morstan," answered Sherlock.

"I got a hit!" Molly called, walking out of her office. "Sally Quincy didn't show up for a quilting meeting today and she is also the girlfriend of one Arthur McKnight, the man who claims to the illegitimate son of Michael Mosely." She handed the file to Bonnie to read over.

"Good Work, Molly!" Bonnie smiled at her before Sherlock took her by the shoulder.

"Stay here. Mycroft would kill me if anything ever happened to you," he ordered Bonnie gruffly before standing and walking out with John hot on his heels.

Bonnie waited for the cars to go before bringing up the address of the kidnappers from memory and jogging out the door.


End file.
